


Scent

by RingThroughSpace



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, F/F, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RingThroughSpace/pseuds/RingThroughSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't you want to get married?" Dot's mother has asked her over dinner at least once a month. "A girl like you could get in a lot of trouble on her own. You saw what happened to Nell."</p>
<p>Years ago, Dot had learned to read between the lines:</p>
<p>A good Catholic girl like you could get in a lot of trouble.</p>
<p>A good omega girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scent

**Author's Note:**

> So, so clearly not mine.
> 
> I believe this is the first fic with these tags in this fandom.
> 
> I wish I were surprised.

For years now, Nell has been the embodyment of everything that could go wrong with Dot's future.

"Don't you want to get married?" Dot's mother has asked her over dinner at least once a month. "A girl like you could get in a lot of trouble on her own. You saw what happened to Nell."

Underneath her mother's words, there is confusion - and worry. Years ago, Dot had learned to read between the lines:

A good Catholic girl like you could get in a lot of trouble.

A good _omega_ girl.

***

Dot knows what kind of trouble she could get into. She's seen it firsthand with Nell. ("A stranger could bite you and that would be the end of you," her mother had fretted once. Dot hadn't mentioned that her sister had offered her neck voluntarily.) She's seen it with the haunted look in the eyes of some of the girls Miss Fisher has talked to.

When Andrews had pushed her against the stove, Dot had felt fear - and resignation. Mother was right, she'd worried. This is going to happen to me.

But it didn't. And it hasn't happened since then, no matter how many adventures Miss Fisher has taken her on.

***

There are other reasons for omegas to marry, of course. 

Months after she'd started stepping out with Hugh, Dot had mustered the courage to bring him home. When he left the table to wash up, her older sister Margaret had leaned close. "He looks like a good provider," she whispered. Her smile didn't speak of provision at all.

Hugh had chosen then to return with a plate of stew. Dot had returned with a smile of her own. "He will be."

When she'd postponed the wedding, her mother had fretted again. "You've probably found another alpha to moon over," she'd told her. "Rupert Valentino won't come out of the screen to sweep you off your feet and claim you, no matter how much you want him to."

There her mother had been right. Almost. Hugh will be a wonderful provider, but he's a beta. (So's the Inspector.) But Miss Fisher --

***

The worst part about nights like these is that others can tell how close she is. She smells of it. Not that it's always a bad thing. Hugh had taken her out to the movies and then to a steakhouse. When he returned her home, his goodnight kiss was deep, and he'd started to trail kisses down her neck as if he'd intended to claim her right there and then. She'd pushed him away giggling and run inside, past Mr. Butler who - at least - seemed not to notice her state.

\-- Into Miss Fisher, who is sitting alone in the parlor nursing a nightcap. "You're back early, Dot," Miss Fisher says. She looks slightly puzzled. "Does Hugh have an early day tomorrow?"

"He's - busy, Miss," Dot squeaks. Her neck still tingles where Hugh had kissed her. She reaches up and touches the spot. Hugh had unbuttoned the top button of her dress, and she really ought to close it, but instead her hand slips involuntarily under her neckline, to the spot on her collarbone where -

Miss Fisher's eyes have followed Dot's hand to her shoulder. Realization blooms across Miss Fisher's face and is rapidly replaced with a different emotion before she makes a point of looking away. "Have a good night, Dot," she says. Her smile is far too knowing, and Dot can feel a blush spread across her face before she dashes up the stairs. She splashes water on her face and scrubs her teeth before slipping into her bedroom.

***

If she were married, Dot would be in heat right now. She's not, and so she isn't, but she's close. 

Dot's mattress is far too narrow to nest properly, but she's pulled her sheets into a pile on her bed. If she curls up tightly enough, it almost feels right. Almost.

She hesitates right before she steps into bed. She has an old shirt of Hugh's she uses for times like these, but that's not what she wants right now.

Dot did laundry yesterday, and she'd stolen what she wanted then. She reaches into the bottom of her hamper and pulls out Miss Fisher's pillowcase. Too many of them reek of men ( _never omegas, never women_ ), but this one smells of her alone.

Dot buries her head in the pillowcase and inhales Miss Fisher's scent, then bites down on it to stifle her moans as she touches herself.


End file.
